Ironically, the winner of the contest voted girl because she was using reverse logic because she really thought it was a boy. I think. :)
TextileJunkie Michelle guessed:
uh boy, but I'm another one that has been 0-3 on my own, so if I'm saying boy that means it will be a girl. So if I say girl, that means it will most likely be a boy allowing me to be correct for once. So I'm going to say girl - which means boy :-)
This was also one of my favorite guesses.
Congratulations, Michelle! Let me know if you want the Sunfires superwash or the mystery yarn prize.
I was surprised by a few things. First, of 92 guesses, they were evenly split, 46-46, for girl and boy.
- 5 people put a lot of weight on intuition, and 3 on the dream I had.
- 3 people thought boy because of how I'm carrying.
- 3 people saw a trend of girls and voted girl; 4 were seeing too many girls and voted boy for balance.
- 2 people used statistics.
- 2 people, including Michelle, used reverse logic.
- And, 1 voted based on a 'best 2 out of 3' coin toss.
To Karen - thank you for the shawl compliment!
For Kim ("You did however get a blue button, so I am going to say a boy") - the blue buttons were used here:
on pink! But, it's a gift.
And for J a r e d ("i guess a boy. preferrably one who knits") - you can be sure that, girl or boy, this kid will be up to their ears in fiber, knitting, spinning, dyeing and whatever else I pick up along the way.
In the works
I'm reknitting Buttercup in a different yarn and with modifications so that I can write up the pattern:
Though I like the yarn (Cascade 220), I'm not sure I like the yarn in this pattern. The pattern worked really well in the original cashmere. Perhaps I'll dig around to find another yarn.
After that, I'll write up a quick pattern for the spin-dye-knit-a-scarf pattern.
Both are easy knits for the holidays.
The night after the ultrasound, I could really feel her moving around. Scott said he felt her move twice! Last night I felt a definite kick when I was lying in bed.
The first trimester was not so fun, between morning sickness, exhaustion, hormones and dealing with body issues and rapid changes. The latter was hardest.
I've always been about my size, about my weight. From high school to now (20 years), I've stayed within a 10 pound range. Not from dieting or conscious effort, but because... well, I don't have much of a sweet tooth. I'd rather have an extra helping of mashed potatoes than eat dessert. I'll buy sweets or snacks, but have them sit around the house because I don't think to eat them. I can't eat more than a bite or two of milk chocolate before the sweetness overwhelms me. And if I do eat a bunch of sweets, I get painful bumps on my tongue that take days to go away. I guess my body naturally regulates and I try to pay attention.
(And, yes, I choose 12 grain instead of white bread. I have to believe that helps, too.)
Suddenly gaining weight spun my concept of me. Even knowing it was from the pregnancy (or hoping it was), I freaked out.
Do you know, in Japan, when I visit my relatives, one of the first things they will do and say when they see me, is to touch my cheeks and tell me, smiling, futtota. I don't know if something is lost in translation, but futoru means to get fat or to gain weight. Futtota is past tense. You've gained weight. You've gotten fatter. Me. Futtota. Yeah. Right. A tough body image to carry.
And don't get me started on the boobs! I got over my disappointment years ago at having, shall we say, modest boobs. Not only that, but I've enjoyed, over the years, not having to wear a bra or sports bra all the time. Boy, did the new boobs take getting used to. Looking like a woman, and not the girl I've gotten used to seeing. And, having to have some kind of support for them, all the time, cuz damn they're heavy.
And the exhaustion. No fun. Period.
But as the second trimester kicked in, the exhaustion abated; I got used to the new body and mourned the loss of the old one, and began to focus on the reason behind all these changes. The ultimate goal. A little goober. A little girl goober. Perspective. And letting go.
And now, after seeing the ultrasound and seeing her move, and with movement I can feel, both inside and out, it's exciting! And fun! Connection.
In my dream, she was holding my finger. Tiny fingers, reaching through my belly to hold my finger. And I knew she was a girl. That's what it's about, isn't it? A little life, holding on to yours, learning and growing and teaching you something about yourself.